Not Special

Hurry up it is time to grow old
Hurry up before your blood runs cold
Not one of us was ever meant to stay
But I suppose we will all find out one day

So it will never matter if you win first place
We were never built to run it like a race
So many ways show we are all the same
Wasting; waiting for fifteen minutes of fame

Life is not for the faint of heart
I’m not trying to tear anyone apart
But not one of us is all that special
And I’m not trying to sound ineffectual

If you take it down a notch, let me explain
That on this earth we are all the same
Filled with pride, and we’re condescending
I won’t hold my breath for some happy ending

Stoic Poetry

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